


Blood under Street Lamps

by ace_corvid



Series: Away from the Light [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tokyo Ghoul, BAMF Morality | Patton Sanders, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Platonic Relationships, Suicide mentions, Trans Virgil, Virgil is a little shit, attempted murder shenanigans, featuring roman, happy cannabalism fun times, its bc of how they obtain food which sounds really weird outside of tg, mainly analogical and royality, no actual suicide occurs, tokyo ghoul typical not sanders sides typical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_corvid/pseuds/ace_corvid
Summary: The figure was sat on the couch, hunched over himself with laboured breathing. His face was unclear and fuzzy in the dark, but you could clearly see the sclera of his eyes were an inky black, a stark contrast to the violent blood red of his pupils. His face was pale and sunken, only brought alive by the anger dancing on his features, visible even in the lowlight. This was probably due to the gaping wound in his abdomen, seeping blood at a worrying rate.Cautiously, Logan, still holding up his bat, flipped on the lights. The figure hissed at the sudden brightness, bolting upright and grievously aggravating the injury, before letting out a resounding curse that probably disturbed the neighbours.“Virgil,” Logan intoned, completely exhausted and utterly unamused. “You're getting blood on the carpet.”





	Blood under Street Lamps

**Author's Note:**

> hi im not dead and none of my other works have been touched in months but i speed wrote this in a blurry haze of lethargy and binge watching because i had the idea and i hate myself  
> in short, i have no excuses despite kinda needing them  
> you dont need to have watched tokyo ghoul to have read this, but it may help to have an understanding of the general concept  
> enjoy

It was all Logan's own fault.

Honestly, it was unlike him- but he had been so busy and- well. Excuses excuses. No matter the reasoning, here he was, doing last minute cramming the night before the test, having not previously studied in the weeks notice he had been given. The digital clock glared midnight in neon, and Logan was sat here with no one to blame but himself.

Honestly, the blame placed at his feet could be traced all the way back to when he thought majoring in chemical engineering and minoring in astronomy was a good idea, all while running his own business establishment, but he had shouldered it. He had told himself he could do it.

And he could do it. He just shouldn't have.

Logan was just lucky his college was so understanding and accommodating, he supposed. They understood the strain of running his organization on his studies, although he didn't specify what it was that he did, but despite that it had been a particular struggle, and for all his income he earned, most of it was paying for said studies. He still needed a room-mate to continue to make rent, after all.

Not that he minded Virgil. Virgil was a good friend whom he had known for a very long time, and he was an ideal choice in every aspect. He tended to be a neat freak, which compensated for the odd hours he kept and he brought in enough income from his own business to make rent each month with no troubles. There was really only just his small habit of-

Logan was catapulted from his misery when a sudden jolting sound ripped from the hallway outside of his room. A mix of bangs and whispered curses came in succession as the intruder made his way through the apartment. Studying would have to wait, it seemed.

God, who even robs a college student?

Grabbing a bat from the corner, Logan braced himself and crept out of his room, sticking to the shadows, and making the least amount of noise ad physically possible.

The figure was sat on the couch, hunched over himself with laboured breathing. His face was unclear and fuzzy in the dark, but you could clearly see the sclera of his eyes were an inky black, a stark contrast to the violent blood red of his pupils. His face was pale and sunken, only brought alive by the anger dancing on his features, visible even in the lowlight. This was probably due to the gaping wound in his abdomen, seeping blood at a worrying rate.

Cautiously, Logan, still holding up his bat, flipped on the lights. The figure hissed at the sudden brightness, bolting upright and grievously aggravating the injury, before letting out a resounding curse that probably disturbed the neighbours.

“Virgil,” Logan intoned, completely exhausted and utterly unamused. “You're getting blood on the carpet.”

“I'm sorry my bleeding out is inconveniencing you.” Virgil dead panned, flopping back onto the couch and shielding his eyes.

“Care to tell me why you're bleeding out in the first place?” Logan said, finally throwing the bat away, wincing slightly at the loud noise it made, at this time of night. They really were gonna have complaints.

“Why do you have a bat, you moron? You don't exactly need one.” Virgil sighs lazily, eyeing the make shift weapon and _still_ not making a move to get up from the couch. Thankfully, Logan was an expert by now at getting blood out of their sofa. Didn't mean he enjoyed it.

“Keeping up human pretences is important Virgil.” Logan kicked the bat further way and figured he should probably go get the first aid kit. “You didn't answer my question. Please tell me you weren't-”

“Hunting? I'm not that stupid Lo, give me some credit.” Vigil grouses. “I was taking a shortcut and it turned out to be another ghouls territory. They tore me a new one before I managed to get away.”

“Why didn't you fight them off?” Logan said as he walked into their living room, finally having located the needlessly huge first aid kit.

“Civilian area, didn't wanna get spotted- forgot my mask at work. Can't have the doves on our ass, with finals coming up and all.” Virgil said, in the tone of voice that only an art student buried in coursework can have.

“You probably have a concussion, you know that? You can't even stand to look at the lights!” Logan groaned, throwing his head back. He didn't want to have to clean up vomit as well as blood.

“Logan, I can't stand lights at the best of times.”

A comfortable silence settled over the apartment as Logan stitched and bandaged up Virgil's stomach, and only the buzz of the lights and Virgil's laboured breathing could be heard. They both went to bed without a word- Virgil only stopping to grab some food out of the fridge, to get his energy up. With any luck he'd be healed in the morning.

Logan supposed studying in the morning would have to do.

* * *

“What do you mean, I have to have a new partner?” Roman paced. “Why isn't Joan being moved up with me?”

The head investigator, an unfortunate man named Eugene Argent merely looked at him with thinly veiled disinterest. “You qualified for the investigation squad assigned to the Dark Sides. Your partner _did not._ You can drop the issue and work with your new assigned partner on the case, and the rest of your colleagues in the squad, or you can decline your promotion Mr. Prince. Have a nice day.”

As he stalked out the room, Roman got the feeling Mr. Argent wasn't particularly bothered if he had a nice day or not.

Still, Roman couldn't help but be excited. Although he wouldn't be able to work with his good friend any more, which was regretful, being assigned to the DS case was a  _big_ deal. How he handled this could make his career- or break it. The Dark Sides were a ghoul gang who had a heavy hand in organised crime in the area, human or ghoul. Drugs, extortion, arson, the like. Hell of a lot of murder. A lot of ghouls claimed have done jobs for the DS- but none could ever say they were actual members. Reports showed that there couldn't actually be more than 4 members of the DS, and not to mention, rumours had been saying they were a man down; one of the identified leaders who went by the moniker 'Storm', had been apparently murdered by the most mischievous and overt of the gang- the pseudo leader, 'Deceit'. 

Ugh,  _ghouls_ \- nothing but monsters masquerading as humans while hungering for their flesh.

Nevertheless, Roman couldn't wait to break open this case; but first he had to address the irritating matter of his new partner.

The adjustment period could potentially be a hindrance- an annoying one at that. Having to find a way to work with his new partner could detract his effort from his new investigation- even worse, if they were a transfer, he would be stuck with someone who wasn't intimate with the awkward twisting passages all around the 18 th ward.

Not to mention, apart from the Dark Sides (or perhaps because of), the 18 th was relatively peaceful- there were barely any hunting incidents that weren't bodies being disposed of for the crime lords in that area, and the territory was protected with an iron fist, both by the CCG and the ghouls.

Roman needed a good first impression to succeed on this squad, and he could only hope that was the goal of his partner too. If they ruined this for him, there would be hell to pay.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. He straightened his desk out before rushing to open the door. The man standing there was of a small stature, with fluffy brown hair and a friendly face full of freckles. He wore glasses and a haphazard suit, bearing a belligerent grin despite his happy demeanour. He stuck out a hand, riddled with freckles, brightly coloured elastics around his fingers, and a brightly coloured plaster.

“Roman, I presume?” He asked happily. Roman took his hand, which the man shook with more enthusiasm than strictly necessary.

“Depends who's asking?” Roman raised an eyebrow at the man, who flushed.

“Oh gosh, silly me always forgetting to introduce myself. I'm Patton Sanders, your new partner! Argent asked me to drop by your office and introduce myself.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanders.” Roman nodded, smiling at the man. He seemed nice enough, if not a bit eccentric. Shouldn't be hard to get along with him, and CCG investigators often enough have their quirks- it speaks nothing of their competencies. Roman couldn't be quick to judge him, after all.

“Please, call me Patton! I can't stand all those formalities, you know?” Patton beamed, and Roman gestured for him to enter the office. “Oh,  _and_ the pleasures all mine! I saw your work on that ghoul morgue worker case- it was awesome, Roman!” Patton skipped into the office, and welcomed himself to a chair.

Roman remembered that case- he had been fresh out of the academy at 20, and it hadn't been anything special for him at the time, but it had caught more attention than his other cases due to being his biggest, and resulting in some research into ghouls who went after the already dead. It tended to be what people associated with him nowadays. It must have stood out to Patton on his file, which it seems the man had already read.

“Oh well, thank you.” Roman flushed slightly at the praise. “You'll have to forgive me, I've only just been made aware of the new circumstances, and I haven't quite had the chance to read your file yet.” 

“Ah, don't worry about it, that makes sense! Well, as you know, my name is Patton, my favourite colour is blue and I have a hamster called Uno!!- but in terms of the job, I'm more known for my work in the 11 th ward- I was on the investigation team that took down the gang of rogue ghouls who were using drug distribution as a front for hunting, known as the-”

“The maleficent seven? You were on the investigation squad for them?” Roman yelped- not quite in disbelief, but something akin to it.

“Oh, you're familiar with the case? Yes, I led it in fact! They figured my expertise would be of use in the Dark Sides case, due to the human crime link they have in common, although I won't be leading the squad in this case- or rather,  _on_ this case.”

“Well I look forward to working with someone of as great renown as you.” Roman smiled charmingly. Patton chuckled heartily, before standing up.

“Likewise, friendo!” He added. “Say, my brother Thomas just opened up his own cafe a couple streets away. How about I treat you and we get to know each other better?”

Roman pushed himself out of his chair and went to grab his coat. “Well, I've never been known to say no to free food.”

Patton simply smiles and leads the way.

* * *

“Logan, you utter barnacle!” Virgil's yell echoes through the house. Logan sighs and walks out into the kitchen. Virgil is hunched over their fridge, which is mostly empty at this point, only full of random ingredients they can't actually use due to them being _for_ humans rather _being_ human. They're only there to keep up appearances. There is a worrying lack of flesh in the fridge, but they seem to be doing alright for blood.

“Any reason I'm a barnacle, or are you just in a mood?” Logan asks, already feeling he knows the reason, but content to leave Virgil to his dramatics.

“We have no food in.” Virgil grouches predictably. He's in an extremely baggy black hoodie, and his hair needs to be re-dyed, being the unfortunate mop of faded purple that it is. “Did you forget to put  _us_ on  _your own_ god damn list?”

“No, don't be ridiculous. Remy is finding it harder and harder to find bodies in his usual haunts is all, and since we lost our morgue access last year, things have been tight recently. Besides, you ate last night, you can't be hungry.”

“My binder got torn through last night due to getting myself fucking stabbed, and I don't have a spare, so I'm extra stressed. Ergo, comfort food.” he replies easily. He pauses, pushing a hand through his hair tiredly. He closes the fridge and moves to sit down next to Logan at the breakfast bar. “I hate being a ghoul sometimes.”

Logan snorts. “Would you rather be human?”

Virgil looks at him like he has half the mind to attack him. “I mean, Ienvy them, naturally, but I'd never wanna be one, are you fuckin'  _crazy_ ?”

Without warning, the front door bangs open, followed by an enthusiastic shout of “What's up fuckers?”. Virgil sighs, and dutifully calls back; “Why are you on my phone?”, sounding suitably scorned. 

Remy swings into the room, hanging off the kitchen door frame, coffee in hand. “Fuck you that's why!”

“Hey Remy, what's up my dude?” Virgil asks, smiling and offering a fist bump, which Remy enthusiastically takes. 

“Well, how's my day going? Good. My work on the other hand? Well, that's why I'm here. Logan.” Remy turns to look at him over his shades, taking off his bomber jacket as he speaks and throwing it over a stool. “We're in short supply.”

“I know.” Logan answers. “Good for humanity as a whole, but terrible for us.” 

“Exactly. Ever since the morgue case, the doves are aware that some ghouls are on the lookout for already dead bodies, and they've been tightening up on the retrieval of suicide victims, which is a problem, seeing as it's the bulk of what we live off.

“Tell me something I don't know Remy.” Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, as Virgil helpfully supplements the conversation with a low whistle, while drinking blood straight out of a milk carton.

Remy leans forward, voice quieter and more serious. “I've been hearing rumours about Ghouls being taken into custody by doves, rather than just murdering them.”

Both Virgil and Logan immediately look up, interest piqued. Remy smirks, still keeping the steely front. 

“That means they're either taking them into interrogation, simply a secondary location before they murder them, or-” Logan begins, but Virgil interrupts.

“Or they've found a way to manufacture synthetic flesh that can sustain ghouls, and they're genuinely taking them into custody.” Virgil sounds somewhat excited.

“My bet's on the synthetic flesh too. Doves have always just fucking beat us in the streets to get info before wrecking our shit- why would it change now? They don't need no torture chambers anyhow; we all know if a Doves got us beat, we're gonna die. We ain't gonna give info up if we've got nothing left to lose. But if we're in permanent custody then...” He trails off, letting the words he's already spoken speak for themselves.

“It could be experimentation.” Virgil says, with pursed lips, tapping his finger of the table in a nervous fit. 

“It probably is.” Remy replies softly, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. “But if they wanna do repeat experiments, they'd still need to feed them. There's a hella good chance on the synthetic flesh, and even if the CCG hasn't got it yet, Logan's a whizz at chemical engineering. We could just try to get it ourselves.”

“You're being the taste tester then Remy. I'm not putting anything Logan makes anywhere _near_ my mouth.” Virgil snorts.

Logan frowns. “Shut up.” He turns to Remy as Virgil snickers to himself. “It would be easier if we had a sample, though.”

“Well there you go then. We find it, see if we can get our hands on a way to manufacture it ourselves, and possibly improve it taste-wise, then we can bring a sustainable peaceful lifestlye not only to those we already serve, but to the other ghouls of the 18 th ward, and possibly beyond.” Remy slaps both his hands down on the table in victory, a wild grin painted on his face.

“Boys, we have a mission, and it's a revolution.”

**Author's Note:**

> ooh spicy ;0


End file.
